everything jumped immediately into sharp focus and she espied her framed picture standing on a counter against the wall. She hoped that her family was still intact and that everyone was healthy. Eleven years is a tremendously long time and a lot might have happened. Doctor Erikson entered the ward with a cheerful smile on her face while Jenetta was still lost in thought.
"Good morning, Ensign. The computer informed me you were awake. Did you have a good sleep?"
"Good morning, Doctor," Jenetta said, with dramatically improved enunciation. "I slept very well, and feel much better, thank you. Look, I can move my arm already."
The surprise was evident on Doctor Erikson's face as Jenetta held up her right arm and wiggled her fingers. "That's remarkable. You seem to be way ahead of the projected timetable for recovery. They're going to have to rewrite the manuals once I report your progress."
"Speaking of reporting, would it be possible to see the Captain now?"
"I'll tell him you're awake. He inquired about you several hours ago."
"Several hours ago? What time is it?"
Glancing at her wrist, the doctor said, "It's now 1638 hours, Galactic System Time."
Clearly dismayed, Jenetta said, "1638? I slept seventeen hours?"
"You needed it. Your body is trying to recover."
"But all I've done for the past ten and a half years is sleep."
Doctor Erikson chuckled. "That wasn't normal sleep. That was stasis sleep. The only similarity between the two is that you're unconscious. You don't even have dream activity and REM while in stasis because there's limited brain activity."
"Still, it seems like I'm sleeping my life away. I want to get up and do something. Anything."
"You will, but first your body has to recover. We're going to start pumping you full of liquids today, and we'll have you sitting up soon at the rate you're recuperating."
"I hope so. Uh, Doctor, could you move my picture over to the table by my bed."
"Of course," the doctor said, fetching the framed image.
The 20x30 centimeter black anodized aluminum frame with a thin decorative line of gold around the front edge contained an animated photograph of seven smiling people; two women and five men. A man, wearing the muted black dress uniform of a Space Command captain, and a patrician woman, wearing a simple light-blue sheath, sat on a curved stone bench in an outdoor park of some sort, while five younger people, none much older than a teenager, arrayed behind them. A meek wind ruffled the heavily leaved bushes in the background and mildly tousled the hair of the men and women. The four younger men, all obviously quite tall, wore the grey uniforms of Space Command Academy cadets. Standing shoulder to shoulder, each had his arms on the back of the men next to him. At the rightmost side of the back row stood the young woman presently resting on the sickbay bed, as she had appeared in her mid-teens. She seemed tiny and insignificant, standing there next to the tall, handsome young men. The doctor noted a remarkable resemblance between the teenage girl and the older woman on the bench. For that matter, there was also a close familial resemblance between the young men and the older man on the bench.
The composition of the image seemed a bit odd to the doctor. Normally, a photographer would have attempted to balance the image by putting the young woman in the center of the back row. Wearing a civilian jacket and slacks outfit, and placed by herself off to one side, one could almost get the impression that she was being excluded from the group. At least the young man standing next to the girl put his left hand on her right shoulder halfway through the images. The picture played for thirty-seconds and then morphed to the opening frame and began to play again.
"Your family?" Dr. Erickson asked as she placed the framed image on the bedside table and faced it so that Jenetta could see it.
"Yes."
"I thought so, from the way you were clutching it in the stasis bed." Smiling she